


Survivors

by FreedomPeachTree



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, F/M, Inspired by The Hobbit, M/M, My First Fanfic, No Beta, Not a lot though, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Quest, There are lots of OCs, maybe some crack, un-beta'd, will add tags as they happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 17:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13506741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreedomPeachTree/pseuds/FreedomPeachTree
Summary: The Fall of Erebor devastated the Dwarven race. The Lonely Mountain fell to the Dragon Smaug, many long years ago. One family, blessed by their maker, escaped the fire and set off in search of a new home with the rest of their people. Survivors of hardship, they learned to live again in the ashes of their former lives.Follow them as they grow, quest, and smash canon to pieces! Survivors will take you places you've never even dreamed of before.





	Survivors

**Author's Note:**

> *massive edit 6/29/2018*   
> Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reading this fan fiction for The Hobbit! If you're here, you'll see oc's, canon deviation, mass destruction of the world you know and love into the mold of my creation! I hope you enjoy! (Khuzdul translations will be at the end of the chapter)
> 
> (I do not own The Hobbit or any of its characters, I only own my OC's) (Copyrighted 2018 © Do Not Plagiarize )

The surviving families of the fall of Erebor are few and far between. The ones who fell in the dragon attack are mourned, the ones left alive suffered so many losses that day. Six young survivors...six tiny gifts were spirited away as soon as a roar was heard from over the land. The roar that made blood curdle and a shiver to run up your spine. 

The roar of Smaug. 

He had come for Erebor.

 

The dragon tore through the gates of the Lonely Mountain, killing all he saw. Crushing whole dwarves under his mighty claws, burning men and women alive to nothing but a blackened corpse. An entire civilization, lost to flame. 

 

•

 

Six survivors of the fall, some barely able to walk; six tiny dwarflings, barely able to keep up with the refugees from their lost home. Their parents mourned the loss of the home their children wouldn't know, and worried for the future ahead for their children. Their family was large by dwarf standards, out in the wilderness, that number would prove to be troublesome. 

The children had never experienced such fear before, as they did with the sight of Smaug, the burn of his fire. They never stopped running after the fall of Erebor. 

The Durin line had lost the throne to a fearsome creature. They lost the mountain to a fire-breathing worm, of all the ignorantly-created creatures they could have been faced with..." 

"You're getting off topic, Missus Aiaur! What happened to the six dwarflings?" A young dwarf eagerly awaited the end of the tale they had heard a hundred times before. 

Aiaur smiled softly at the child, who looked up with saucer-sized eyes. 

"They survived and everybody was very happy in their new home, but never forgetting Erebor, or how the mountain was their home. One day, we shall take our mountain back, and you will see it, young one. You can guard Erebor like the warrior you are, yes?" 

Cheerful cries of, "yes!", "I'll be the best one there is!", and, "Were you a warrior?" Echoed from the group of children. Once the last one was spoken, the little dwarrows looked up expectantly. 

"Was I a warrior? I was too little when Erebor fell. But I hope one day I can be. For right now, watching you all is the highest honour a warrior like me can have. Protecting the future of our people." Aiaur lifted up a younger member, who was diligently sucking their thumb with wide eyes, and cradled him in her arms. 

"Do you all want to be warriors today?" High-pitched cheers went up from the group, "Well, let's make some weapons and we can see who we can get to play warrior with us." 

Tiny dwarves stampeded across the floor to the craft table, obediently, but impatiently, waiting for their mentor. Aiaur chuckled at the small children. They were too excitable for the dwarf woman. Strolling over the the table and handing out rolled up parchment, they went to pasting and decorating their, "weapons" with gusto. Running around the room they were in, they proceeded to take back, "Erebor," which was the large chair Aiaur sat in to tell stories, and fought with, "Smaug," who was the unfortunately picked Aiaur, much used to this game. 

_

Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.

Wipe off metal with oiled rag.

Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.

Adjust grip on tool.

Ping. Ping-

"Vaur. You've been working on that piece for months. What are you making? Just show us!" Qur, the youngest brother, demanded from outside the locked room. 

"Sorry, what? Can't hear you over the deadbolt, and several locks! Come back later!" Vaur shut out his brother, who pounded in the door with both fists. 

"You'll come out eventually! You have to stop some time!" Qur gave a kick to the door, and stomped away to a different part of the forge. Embur, the master of the forge, and oldest of the siblings, scowled at his brother. Embur was working away at his piece, heat surrounding him in the enclosed quarters. Spacious, but ventilation was minimal. Stuffy would be a good word for the room he claimed as a work space. Setting down his tools, he wiped his sweaty face and arms on his leather work gear. He shed the protective gloves and layers he wore to keep from getting severely injured while working. Casting a glance at the unfinished, expensive mithril piece, his thoughts traveled to Erebor and its high ceilings, large chambers, and brilliant forges. He was ready to go home. 

 

_

 

Daeur and Kiour were nose-to-slightly-broken nose as they pressed their blades together in a stand-still point of the fight. Whoever lost had to make dinner. Daeur and Kiour were drenched in sweat and covered in bruises from the sparring session. Both females were adamant on not making dinner for the hoard of hungry people they held in their home in Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains. 

Daeur kneed Kiour in the side and rammed the padded hilt of her axe in her face, causing her to stumble backwards, blinded with the pain on the side of her head. Kiour, having fallen for the trick many times, knew how Daeur was going to attack next. Side-stepping the overhead attack from her sister's padded-to-prevent-death, double-headed axe; Kiour smashed an arm guard into the back of Daeur's plated back, effectively sending her elder sister into the dirt, face-down and groaning. "I want pork. Can you manage?" Kiour threw a grin down at her sister, who glared at her from her place on the floor. "I will spit in your food." Daeur threatened from the floor, and standing with a a snap and crack from her bones. "It might make it taste better if you're the one making it!" Kiour said, leaning and helping her sister off the dirt. Daeur grumbled out insults in Khuzdul, then shrugged Kiour off. 

"Let's head home, namad." 

 

_

 

At the home of the siblings, which also housed Embur spouse, and soon Qur's spouse. Lloi, a pastry maker and Embur's wife, and Qur's fiancée Terra, the overseer of Ore Mining in Ered Luin. She would be moving in as soon as they were wed, in less than a year.

Embur is the eldest, at one hundred and sixty-eight. His son, Ryker, who is forty-five, just a few years short of being entered into an academy to learn a trade from a master. 

Vaur, just twelve years younger at one hundred and fifty-six hadn't looked up since he first latched onto hammer on their Adad's tool belt. Daeur, Vaur's twin and younger, by just a half hour was his only reason to leave the forge at night. She glowed like molten copper, he loved her dearly, his closest companion in all of the mountains. 

The triplets, by the grace of Mahal had the parents been blessed with them, were Kiour, Qur, and Aiaur. Seventy-two whole years younger than their eldest sibling, coming up on their ninety-sixth in just a few short months. Kiour and Daeur are unwed females, battle trained and picky, not interested in anyone, and very sought after. Kiour is a leather smith, not too many years past her apprenticeship. Daeur is a weapons master, and training to younger dwarves, and older. Thought well of for her skill with many weapons by some, looked down upon by older generations of dwarves for being so resistant to more traditional roles for female dwarves. Qur worked with his brothers in the forge, they all took a penchant to metal crafting. Vaur preferred gemstones, details never being overlooked. Qur followed in his elder brothers footsteps most days, working in the forge to help pay bills, with the skills his large hands and sturdy shoulders he could lift and pump the bellows for hours. He was content with his less extravagant metal crafting, mostly making things dwarves would need for daily living like tools and parts. Then there was Aiaur, the youngest and strangest of them all. Squished between her brother and sister while in the womb, she might be slimmer and taller than the rest of her family but she is quick as a whip and sharper than the finest blade any of her brothers could ever hope to make. She, Vaur, and Embur were the most reserved of the siblings, taking after their grandfather. The siblings are all extremely close, and cherish the family bond they share. Thought of as, "Gifts from Mahal" because of all the children the family has. It is rare for dwarrows to even have one female for every ten males, and even rarer still for every fifth couple to have one child.

•

"Qur, pass 'he po'atoes, 'er hogging them all! Embur, make 'im share!" Kiour whined around a mouth stuffed with food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full! Qur, pass the potatoes, will you? You have enough on your plate as it is, "you gluttonous pig!" Vaur snapped at the younger, who glared at Kiour before passing them dramatically to her.

Skirmishes like that made up the dinner, as did laughter, conversations upon conversations, and having food passed around the long, mismatched table. Young Ryker laughed with his aunts and uncles as he chatted with his quieter mother, Lloi, who would laugh just as loud when a good joke was told across the table. Terra would as her fiancé, Qur, kissed her cheek with a mouthful of juicy berries, leaving a purple stain. Dogs ran around the table, waiting for scraps to be dropped or handed to them. 

The house was full of merriment and happiness. But within the next month, their world would change dramatically.

**Author's Note:**

> Khuzdul-
> 
> Namad - Sister  
> Adad - Father  
>  
> 
> (please tell me if I missed any!)
> 
> ****************  
> Edit 3/12/18  
> Hello, everyone! I'm sorry for the lack of update, I'm in the process of moving at the moment, as soon as we are settled I'll be posting more frequently! This fic is NOT abandoned, just postponed until living arrangements are settled! Love you all, thanks for reading! ***


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